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Fine Prints: February, 2006 Putting Women in Their Place --2 February 4 Yes . . . But . . . ; No . . . But . . . February 11 Where Did Sin Abound February 18 Not--So--Alien Approaches February 25
Putting Women in Their Place--2 Last week we wrestled briefly with the biblical admonition for wives to be submissive to their husbands. We noted that the entire discussion (Ephesians 5:21-6:9) is preceded by a call for everyone to be submissive to everyone, "out of reverence for Christ." It’s a universal mandate. Then the Apostle Paul goes on to elaborate on three well-established human relationships in which one party was dominant and the other subservient. Granted the norms of the day, Paul’s suggestion that wives, children and slaves should be submissive comes as no surprise. And it fits with his universal mandate of everyone being submissive to everyone. What leaps out are his expectations for the dominant partner in these social duos. In Paul’s time, men reigned supreme—as husbands, as fathers, as slave masters. There were essentially no restraints. But Paul turned all that on its head. He said, "Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her. . . " (Ephesians 5:25). To fathers he said, "Do not exasperate your children" (Ephesians 6:4). And he reminded slave masters that all are "slaves" of Christ and accountable to Him (Ephesians 6:9). Last week we examined the impact of Paul’s high standard for husbands. His standard for father-child relations was no less staggering. You mean, as a father I can’t treat my child just as I please? There are moral expectations for parenting? But the real clincher is the master-to-slave restrictions. Certainly, Paul said, slaves should work hard for (i.e. submit to) their masters. (Remember, everyone is to submit to everyone.) What slaves needed to remember was that all Christians—slave or free—really work for Christ. There may be an earthly master in between, but Christ is the One for whom everyone works. True, masters owned their slaves. But Christian masters needed to recognize that they were owned by Christ. And on Judgment Day, slaves and masters would be judged by the same standard. Mind-boggling indeed! The only other time people had encountered such spiritual radicalism was from Jesus Himself. So how do we put women in their place? Simply by applying the text as it was written. The topic is introduced by the universal mandate for everyone to submit to everyone. The discussion concludes with an outline of how masters and slaves should relate. I don’t for a minute believe that Paul was laying down an eternal mandate that there should be masters and slaves. Rather, he was seeking to allow the love of Christ to soften and control an inequitable social norm that already existed. He did the same concerning the father-and-child relationship. And he did it for husbands and wives. His purpose in writing was to place limits on much-abused social situations. How unfortunate that we should read his comments as proof that such situations are God-ordained. If I read the text correctly, the proper place of a wife is on a pedestal. And the proper place for a husband? On a pedestal, too. And husbands and wives should equally strive to be worthy of the high esteem in which their partner holds them. Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor
Yes . . . But . . .; No . . . But . . . Just in case you haven’t been watching, reading or listening, many Muslims are less than pleased about a cluster of Danish cartoons that portray their prophet and their religion in an unflattering light. I’m sympathetic. Not so sympathetic, mind you, that I defend the killing and destruction of property that has ensued. But I share their basic concern. Just not their raging reactions. The Ten Commandments address three broad principles: respect for things divine, respect for fellow humans and respect for property rights. These three concerns pretty much cover the gamut of human experience. And between the cartoonists and the rioters, all three principles have been trampled. I get the idea that God has definite ideas concerning respect toward spiritual things. The prohibition against taking God’s name in vain includes attaching His name to anything that’s unworthy of such a connection. Cartoons could certainly fall into that category. Whenever I see religion pilloried, yellow caution flags start popping up. Anything so sacred that it necessitated removal of the sandals in olden times isn’t to be dealt with lightly. I’d rather go the second mile when it comes to caution in such cases. And while the things considered sacred in other religious systems may have little significance to me, out of respect for belief as a spiritual value, I seek to treat the religious icons of others with due deference. Unfortunately, the current trend in Western society is to show less and less respect for things associated with deity. So I wouldn’t complain if cartoonists—and a lot of other commentators—were to rein it in when it comes to religion. Anyone’s religion. Having said that, I’d like to look at another crucial spiritual principle: freedom of choice. God could have created us as robots. He could have designed us so that when He pushed a button, we would open our mouths and say dutifully and mechanically: "God is great. God is good. We love you, God." But He didn’t make us that way. He truly gave freedom of choice. We can love God, or we can hate Him. We can say good things about Him, or we can slander Him. We can live the life He outlined, or we can run amok. And except for a few unusual recorded cases, God lets us do what we will. The very fact that God lays down rules merely asking us to do things a certain way is tacit acknowledgment that we don’t have to obey. We have a choice. Which is all rather amazing, when you stop to think about it: The Creator is willing to let His creatures govern themselves, even when they do it abysmally. Certainly, there are consequences. The sins of the fathers continue to wreak havoc generations down the track. Everyone ultimately discovers that sin has a price tag. But rarely, ever so rarely, does God step in and immediately exact the price in full. Jesus’ parable of the weeds and the wheat makes that clear. So I’m with the Muslims in not wanting to see religion pilloried—be it mine, theirs or someone else’s. And I think God agrees. But I also think He’s a lot more committed to freedom than many of His creatures recognize. Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor
I once heard an Adventist theologian say in a sermon, "I sin a million times a day." Granted that a million sins a day works out to a rate of 11.6 sins per second, I think I’ll have to take his statement as hyperbole. I’m not sure that in one second I could get 11.6 thoughts through my mind, let alone that many bad ones. And acting on them would take even longer. But his point is well taken. We sin a lot. Far more than most of us realize, let alone would admit. Sin is all-affecting and all-pervasive. Our lives are simply chock-full of things that "come short of the glory of God." So in one sense, sin is a condition more than an act. But the traditional definition of sin as something specific and tangible is also important. Failure to recognize the all-pervasive condition of sin makes it easy for me to look at my life and think that I’m pretty good. I mean, I haven’t killed anyone today. I pay tithe. I don’t . . . . A limited understanding of the nature of sin can lead to self-righteousness, legalism and perfectionism. The million-sins-a-day school of thought undercuts all such self-conceit. On the other hand, when it comes to confessing our sins, the million-sins-a-day concept has its own pitfalls. If sin is so all-pervasive, then what’s the use of enumerating any specific inappropriate acts in my conversations with God? I might as well just say, "As you know, Lord, I sin a million times a day, give or take. Please forgive me." Unfortunately, such statements don’t lend themselves to changing specific behaviors. They’re too general. They ignore the fact that there’s a legitimate time to wrestle with very real, very tangible, very wrong actions and all of their very real, very tangible and very tragic consequences. The same principle applies whether we’re dealing with confession to God or to our fellow humans. One of our denomination’s founders, Ellen White, who was also a respected writer, had this to say: "True confession is always of a specific character, and acknowledges particular sins. They may be of such a nature as only to be brought before God, they may be wrongs that should be confessed before individuals who have suffered injury through them, or they may be of a general kind that should be made known to the congregation of the people. But all confession should be definite and to the point, acknowledging the very sins of which you are guilty." The Healthy Mind, Healthy Body Handbook, which comes from a secular perspective, says concerning the art of apology: "Admit the specific mistake, and accept responsibility for it. You must name the offense; no glossing over with just, ‘I’m sorry for what I did.’ Be specific." Both of the preceding are good counsel. In none of the Bible’s great forgiveness-and-reinstatement stories—David and Bathsheba, the prodigal son, Zaccheus, Peter, Saul the persecutor—did the heroes experience grace just by a generic acknowledgment that they sinned a million times a day. No, they looked at the specific barrier that stood between them and the Father. They acknowledged it candidly. And to every one of them God extended His grace. Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor
Imagine for a moment that you’re an alien from outer space. You’ve recently arrived on Planet Earth, having thought-traveled your way here. Eons ago you discovered the science of dematerializing and rematerializing, making journeys over vast distances altogether less complicated. You’ve chosen Orlando because a cosmic destination agent told you that it’s a premier attraction for Earthlings. You’ve spent a few days checking out the appallingly primitive Magic Kingdom and Epcot. During this time you’ve made noteworthy observations about Earthling behavior. Then you decide to have a look at the other side of town. It’s about 8:25 on a Saturday morning, Local Earth Reckoning (LER). As you hover over a building that your Intergalactic Telepathic Locator (ITL) tells you is "Markham Woods Church of Seventh-day Adventists," you notice a few cars starting to arrive. Transmogrifying into your dematerialized form, you follow the passengers through the door. You notice that they’re gathering in "Room 1" of an area your ITL tells you is the "Fellowship Hall." For a few moments the small group communicates in the manner you’ve observed since your arrival on Earth. Then things suddenly change. Getting out of their chairs, they assume a variety of postures—most of them on their knees. Instead of looking at each other as they take turns talking, they close their eyes and, seemingly, talk to no one. The way they’re speaking makes it clear that they think they’re being heard by some being named "God." You beam in quickly to your Intergalactic Telepathic Translation Device (ITTD) . . . and then it all starts to make sense: They’re talking to the Supreme One. You listen even more closely, getting increasingly excited—because you know that, while they’re approach is rudimentary, they’ve obviously figured out that Earthling power is paltry compared to the infinite resources waiting to be tapped. You note that they’re talking about some guy named Jim, who’s going to be "preaching" in a few minutes. A quick check of your ITTD tells you that preaching is "an exercise in which one Earthling tells other Earthlings about the Supreme One." The group in Room 1 of the Fellowship Hall obviously wants Jim to do the best job possible. They seem to care deeply about him, about all who are part of Markham Woods Church, and even about those who aren’t. And they have deep concern for those facing adversity. As you listen, you hear comments about the "Holy Spirit." By this time you’ve so tuned into what’s going on that you don’t even need to use your ITTD. You instinctively know who and what they’re talking about. Furthermore, you know that, elementary though their efforts are, they’re heading in the right direction. You’ve noticed a change in the group even in the few minutes since you slipped unnoticed through the door. There’s a unity that wasn’t there before. A calm. A certainty. A level of care and concern. It’s contagious. You can feel it. More Earthlings need to know about this, you think. Maybe if I implant a subtle thought in this guy Jim’s mind, he might extend an invitation for others to join in. And don’t forget to tell them, Jim, it starts at 8:30 each Saturday morning, LER. Room 1. Fellowship Hall. Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor | ||
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